The Diamond Planet
by flirtingintechnicolor
Summary: UPDATED-Taken from the Doctor Who episode "Midnight" with David Tennant, the Glee kids replace the former passengers of the Crusader 50, and head in for the most thrilling adventure of their lives.
1. Welcome to Midnight

The name's Susan and here's my first chapter of my Doctor Who "Midnight" crossover with Fox's Glee. I contemplated turning Donna and the Doctor into Glee characters as well, but later decided against it. Please review, that'd be awesome. Thanks for reading!

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><p>Over the rugged terrain, an inky black sky was littered with stars and distant asteroids. A meteor shot across the heavens for a split second, as if it had been lit aflame and fired out of a gritty fairground canon. The light from the petrified orb lit up the dark side of the planet below, still lingering long after it had flown past. The rocky ground wasn't simply prehistoric boulders and natural debris scattered across the landscape unsophisticatedly. The passing luminous body revealed the reality of the world's surface. Dazzling diamonds radiated, glittering and shimmering, growing together in elaborate arrangements. Sparkling bouquets covered every inch on the planet's exterior. The glistening globe was circling around a fiery sun, a rapid orbit much faster than ones found in other galaxies. The luster and blaze of the two combined was breath taking. In the sky line, a looming city consisting of brilliant silver skyscrapers and towers that had carved their way into the horizon, with a sheen like tinsel on a holiday. A high rise that had been built of opaque suspended spheres that hung in the air was the main attraction, and the location of the luxurious Leisure Palace.<p>

Inside, an enormous pool lay magnificently. Above the gently lapping water, pillars extended from the ground to the towering glass ceiling, like stalagmites in a plush cave. Sunbathing next to the pool, a redhead in a fluffy white robe stretched out on the posh lounge chair. A penguin suited waiter strutted towards her, his left hand behind his back. He leaned down to hand a ringing lavender telephone to her on a tray, as if he was serving her. Donna Noble rolled her eyes, sighing. It was the twenty seventh time the ridiculous man had called her that day. She extended her arm to grab it, heaven forbid she not pick up the phone in time. Bringing it to her ear, "I said, no," she enunciated, pronouncing each vowel clearly, like a child learning her phonics. She emphasized the "no", in case, after every call that day, he still didn't quite follow her.

The Doctor continued trying to convince her over the public wall phone. His forehead shriveled up in frustration, pleading into the speaker held to his pained face, "A sapphire waterfall! A waterfall, made of sapphires! This enormous jewel, the size of a glacier, reaches the Cliffs of Oblivion, and then shatters into sapphires at the edge, they fall a hundred thousand feet into a crystal ravine." He held his empty hand in front of him, as if she could see him speaking with it. His gestures were sharp, excitement clear in his voice. His eagerness to share his adventure with Donna was a bit heartbreaking in her ear. He really wanted her to join him, she could tell.

Across the city, Donna smiled. She wasn't refusing to go because she wanted the Doctor to be unhappy. She knew he loved to allow others to be a part of his experiences even more than he loved the predicaments themselves. Secretly, she wondered if it was because he cherished bringing his friends to new marvels, or if there was a part hidden in him that really feared being alone. Being the last of your kind, that surely had to have some effect on your attachment to others. Instead of snapping at him to surrender, she sarcastically purred, "Bet you say that to all the girls."

The Doctor stopped trying to persuade her, and instead started whining. He furrowed his black eyebrows into his wide eyes, and shoved his hand in his long light brown trench coat pocket. "Oh come on, they're boarding now," he complained as a short Asian woman and a pursed lipped blonde walked past him to the entry gates. He could see the parked Crusader 50 through the windows, the space equivalent of a twenty first century charter bus. It wasn't particularly attractive for a new age ship, shaped like a flying submarine. Caterpillar treads crisscrossed the bottom of the tank. The thick, solid carrier was huge, he noted, a bit distracted by its appearance. The two women both reached the entrance across the gantry. "It's no fun if I see it on my own! Four hours, that's all it takes."

Donna whined back at him, an irritated tone in her voice. Why couldn't the man just live a little for one day, and let his companion do what she wanted for the afternoon? "No, that's four hours there and four hours back, it's like a school trip. I'd rather go sunbathing!"

"You be careful. That's X-tonic sunlight," the Doctor warned, his voice cautionary.

"Oh, I'm safe," she assured, looking up the clear window above her. The sun's reflection glimmered, like the rest of the planet. "It says in the brochure, this glass is fifteen feet thick." She felt as if she was a teenager again and was trying to convince her mum that she would be alright staying home alone for the evening.

The Doctor, watching the rest of the Crusader 50's passengers board, decided there wasn't a chance he'd get Donna on the shuttle. Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, "All right, I give up. I'll be back for dinner, we'll try that anti-gravity restaurant," he mused, remembering something the bellhop had recommended to him. After a slight pause, he added as a second thought, "With bibs."

Donna grinned, pleased that the indication of him finally getting on the tour meant she'd get to enjoy the rest of her leisurely day in peace. That was a rare treat when it came to travelling with the Doctor. "That's a date," she stopped herself, quickly trying to erase the last sentence the conversation. "Well, not a date. You know what I mean, get off!" she concluded, somewhat amused.

The Doctor's face eased up, and a gentle smile took the frown's place. Ready to hang the receiver back on the wall for someone else to use, "See you later-"

Donna stopped him before he could hang up just yet. "Oy! And you be careful, all right?" she told him. Anyone who had been around the man knew that unless you reminded him of the prospect of safety, the entire concept would get pushed to the side.

The Doctor leaned his head back, like the entire thought was completely absurd. "Naaah. Taking a big space truck with a bunch of strangers across a diamond planet called Midnight? What could possibly go wrong?"

The Doctor turned his head around, watching the other passengers from his seat. The Crusader 50's interior was much lovelier than the exterior, he acknowledged. As much as the chic design and plush furniture tried to hide, though, it still maintained the workings of an armored vehicle purposed to carry cargo and those deemed "lower class". The windows were tinted pitch black, as he had told Donna; the X-tonic sunlight would burn anyone who attempted to contact it. Steel and metal walls boxed in row after row of double seats. The charcoal chairs were made of sticky leather, royal blue kerchiefs hanging off their backs. An ivory diamond and the words "Crusader Tours" were stitched into their fabric. The Doctor wasn't quite sure why, but he made sure to notice every exit and doorway inside. The toilets and hostess chambers were to his rear, stationed next to the thick mandatory emergency exit. He couldn't quite figure why a ship that traveled through a planet where you would disintegrate as soon as you left the protection of its metal hull, would require an escape hatch. The Doctor couldn't imagine many instances where instant death would be safer than anything indoors.

His eyes darted about the cabin, staying awfully quiet. Everyone else seemed to be fussing about, looking for their seats and dragging their multiple unnecessary carry-ons. He would offer help, but he didn't feel as if it was the right time to budge in. Many of his friends had always commented on his unnatural need to budge in whenever he could. Truthfully, he only got involved when he knew something was suspicious, interesting, or could use his assistance. A mismatched group of tourists didn't qualify as a situation where it would do any good for him to stick his nose in.

It wasn't like he hadn't tried, however. His attempt to lift a battered suitcase onto the shuttle had gotten his hand smacked by a self-righteous blonde. He'd had his fair share of those.

The other woman he had seen earlier was walking down the aisles, much different from the scrambling others. Her smart navy dress and uniform Nantucket blue blouse indicated that she wasn't the average rider as he had assumed. A blue identification tag with white trim read "Hostess", but no name. She was good looking, of Asian ancestry most likely, and warm chocolate brown eyes. She wasn't a twig, necessarily, but her figure fit her well.

_Now, stop it, you,_ he thought to himself as he forced a polite smile on his lips. _The Doctor doesn't judge people by their appearances._ He dug his nails into the coarse fabric of his dress pants, _it's not like they're giving me much else to judge them by, though._ _Oh, well. A little exterior observance won't damage my morals._

The hostess flashed a pageant worthy smile, automatically bombarding him with courtesy favors before he could open his mouth to greet her. Her voice a bit rushed, and she began handing them to him. "That's the headphones for Channels 1 to 36, modem link for 3D videogames, complimentary earplugs, complimentary slippers, complimentary juice pack, and complimentary peanuts,' she finished, reciting each of the knickknacks' names from memory as he was given them. "I must warn you that some products may contain nuts," she concluded.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, a very smart aleck expression on his face. "That'll be the peanuts," he informed her saucily. The second the comment came out, he clamped his jaw shut. He knew better.

She stared him back, giving him the feeling that the duty of keeping her job was the only thing that prevented her from snapping at him for his remark. "Enjoy your trip," she politely said through her teeth. Her eyes showed him that she wanted to snark back, but instead began to carry on to the next person.

The Doctor beamed back at her, clearly putting their prior conversation past him. "Oh, I can't wait!" he said, declaration energized in delight. "_Allons-y_!"

The hostess turned around and faced him once more, frowned vaguely with her eyebrows knitted together. It was obvious she didn't recognize the term. "I'm sorry..?" she asked.

He occasionally forgot that he was among the very few who could speak every language. It was a shame that the language had died out, like Phoonglish and Mandarin Chinese. It'd been quite pretty to hear in his day. "It's French, for let's go!" he clarified.

The Hostess gave a frosty smile, and turned her attention to the pair behind him. Repeating the same speech she probably said a thousand times a week, "That's the headphones for-"

To the Doctor's surprise, the shorter of the two men behind him refused. "No thank you! Not for us!" he hurriedly said, shaking his head. He and his neighbor were fiddling inside their bags, looking for something that they couldn't seem to get their combined four hands on.

The elder looking of the two wore a navy and red blazer, a "D" patch sewed onto the chest pocket. He had inky black hair, and the Doctor imagined it would have been curly if it hadn't been haphazardly gelled back. In fact, his hair was so done up that he suspected there were some insecurities wrapped up in that mind of his. _Expensive products aren't going to improve your self-esteem, kiddo. _He snapped his toes together in his shoe, stopping himself from judging the boy's appearance any further.

It didn't seem to work. Moving away from the black goop on his scalp, he focused on his actual face. His hazel eyes were enthusiastic, something that made Doctor smirk on the inside. Enthusiasm was something he could relate to. He wondered if the kid was a full-time traveler, or a simply hopeful one. He wasn't exactly in the market for a companion, though.

Whether or not, he seemed to know his way about the cruiser, looking quite familiar in his surroundings. While he appeared to be only about in his late teenage years, his short stature probably only reached five foot eight. He looked as if he was maybe of some Asian descent, though less obvious that the hostess. Half Filipino, maybe? He wasn't good with Earth breeds outside of English.

There was something else about him that made the Doctor wary. He recognized a dangerous mix in those hazels of his. Beginning to rub his thumb and fingertips together gently, he mentally slipped off the stressed expression that hid his gaze. Underneath, a hint of raw enchantment shimmered nakedly, depicting a mind stirring with possibility and cravings. He'd seen it before, and its reappearance didn't excite him.

Next to him, a taller yet leaner male sat quietly. Dressed up in a ritzy looking alabaster colored button up silk shirt, he had the cuffs rolled up casually over his elbows. His bronze hair was polished, every strand looking as soft as cashmere and naturally in place. Not a pore on his face was visible, the Doctor noted, slightly impressed by the amount of time the boy obviously spent on his appearance. It was hard to find someone who didn't settle with a combed head and a pair of torn denims, including himself. Martha Jones had always looked her best, and it'd been one of his favorite traits about her.

The Doctor (usually) tended to stray away from judging people by their appearance, but even he couldn't deny that this traveler was undeniably stunning. Gorgeous, even, with his high cheekbones and glamorous features. His own Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he gulped down any further thoughts.

As he pushed rather unbecoming thoughts down his throat, he took a last look at the other. He had interesting attributes, an edgy smolder in his optics, and awe worthy smile that could make many weak at the knees. _They'd look nice together_, the Doctor remarked to himself, but there didn't seem to be a shared romantic connection in their interaction with each other.

The copper headed boy had to be about the same height as the Doctor himself, but his statuesque body didn't have an ounce of fat on it. Lanky and thin, he was the exact opposite of the short and muscular guy by his side. The two looked to be about the same age, but it was clear that the shorter one had the upper hand in their companionship. The bronze headed one gave off the aura through his hesitant blue eyes of someone who was rather shy, but the Doctor couldn't quite put his finger on whether or not he could really believe it. Figuring him out could likely prove to be a challenge, but the Doctor was enticed, and once he was interested in someone or something, he did his best to uncover the truth.

The hostess nodded, a bit taken back. It probably wasn't often that her routine got interrupted, the Doctor guessed mentally. She awkwardly left without a word, to the three people further back. The Doctor began to eavesdrop on the two "...they call it a sapphire waterfall, it's no such thing, sapphire's an aluminum oxide, but the glacier's just a compound silica with iron pigmentation," the black haired one explained. He seemed to be amused at the stupidity of whoever gave the waterfall its askew title, which made the Doctor smirk to himself. What was it with humans and being right all the time? A healthy bit of blundering and false advertisement never led to the extinction of anyone's race. "Have you got that pillow for my neck?" he stopped to ask his seatmate.

He nodded, turning to open his bag. "Yes sir," he answered, speaking for the first time since he'd boarded. His voice was higher than the Doctor had suspected, but it was velvety and very smooth, as if it were a new creation of audible satin.

He indicated his approval, "And my pills?"

"All measured out, there you go," he said as he grabbed them out of the carry on's pocket and presented him with them, but the curly headed one was already leaning over the seat. Out of the blue, he extended his hand to the Doctor. Grinning, he returned the handshake.

"Anderson, Blaine Anderson," he introduced, not letting go of the Doctor's hand as he spoke. He seemed quite friendly, but the Doctor got the sense that it wasn't his first instinct to allow others to be in command. There was nothing wrong with having a leader, he supposed, but he hoped Blaine wouldn't attempt to order him about. Things might not go so smoothly.

"I'm the Doctor, hello!" he acquainted himself, shifting his position so that the three were all face to face.

Blaine lowered his voice, whispering with glee, "It's my fourteenth time!" The Doctor was a bit taken aback at the number. _The misrepresentation of the name must not be that big of a deal_, he thought to himself, _to come back that many times_.

The Doctor went down an octave as well, "Oh! My first," he mused while he widened his twinkling dark brown eyes.

"And I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel-," the other feverently announced. He stood up out of his chair as he shook the Doctor's hand, talking quickly while he had the chance. The Doctor was starting to get the feeling that Blaine was Kurt's superior in some way, and the poor fellow didn't get to talk much. The Doctor smiled as he shook his hand, feeling some sympathy for the boy. He hadn't been around him for much, but he'd already taken a liking to his personality. Kurt seemed to be enthralled with the attention.

Blaine realized the shared expression on the Doctor's and Kurt's face, and quickly pushed Kurt back into the direction of his chair. _Hmm, _mentally deduced the Doctor, _maybe there's more to this rapport than meets the eye. "_Now don't bother the man, where's my water bottle..?" asked Blaine, directing Kurt's attention back to him. Their conversation with the Doctor seemed to be over, so he returned to how he had been sitting prior to their short lived greeting. With everyone else in their seats, he reasoned that he'd be in the company of only himself and the pockets of his trench coat that was folded in the luggage compartment above him. He didn't particularly like the idea, and let his mind survey the rest of the Crusader 50. Surely there had to be others on this tour that didn't have a colleague with them.

As he had supposed, he caught the eye of pretty young blonde in the front row. It'd been the one who'd smacked his hand when he'd tried to offer assistance, he grumbled in his head. She didn't look too nasty, though.

With dyed flaxen hair and soft brown eyes, she reminded the Doctor of someone he'd loved a long time before. She wasn't as stunning as Kurt or as handsome as Blaine, but she was beautiful nonetheless. One of her hands held a hardcover novel open in her lap, and the other fiddled with a gold cross necklace on her neck. Her crisp shoes tapped on the floor as she thought to herself. She wore a patterned purple and blue lace dress under a white cardigan that matched her ballet flats, a very wholesome choice for someone her age. Saying that, he suspected she was nineteen, due to her shape and lack of wrinkles and age lines.

She had to keep flicking her head to the side so that her bangs didn't cover her line of sight. As her eyes met the Doctor's, he smiled cordially. She didn't look like someone he would mind getting to know on this trip. However, she didn't return the smile and simply focused back on her book. _A bit harsh_, he thought as he looked away, a bit hurt at her gesture. Hopefully she'd warm up to him later.

His glumness didn't last long, as a trio of voices behind him caught his ear. A couple sat side by side, trying to coax a bitter blonde sitting towards the back on the left hand side to join them.

"Now, don't be silly. Come and sit with Finn and me," the woman insisted. She wasn't very large, but her voice carried far. An estimated five foot three, her soprano resonated across the entire cabin. _Oh, dear,_ he cringed as he realized he was going to be contained in a small chamber with it for the next four hours. With an echo.

Was it just him, or did everyone, from her, to the gentlemen behind him, to even the hostess, have a seemingly talented voice? He crossed his fingers that there wasn't going to be a surprise song and dance at any point of the night. Although, a nice carol on the ride back might suit his fancy.

Once again, he hated his current mentality as he looked her up and down. The woman wasn't anything particularly nice to look at, truthfully. Her brown hair was rather plain, as were her impulsive amber eyes. She had a piercing stare, and the Doctor made a mental note to not go out of his way to irk her. While she wasn't unattractive, so to speak, her nose was off center, and her bangs didn't flatter her face. Perhaps if she relaxed, and allowed her jaw and eyeball sockets to calm down, she'd be reasonably tasteful.

Her crimson sweater had a homely beige reindeer knitted onto the chest. _Martha would have had a field day with her._ Paired with a maroon plaid skirt, her attire was unpretentious, from the stiff collar that peeked over the top, to the knee socks and black Mary Jane's. She had a lot of spunk, though, he had to admit, and he somewhat found himself liking it. "Look! We get slippers!" she called out to him, as if the inexpensive packaged socks would suddenly make him realize his passion for plush clogs and desire to sit with them.

The teenager to her left, the one he'd heard referred to as Finn, sighed wearily. "Come on, Sam. Just do what Rachel says." He didn't seem to have the determination Rachel had, either that or he preferred to have Rachel alone next to him. The Doctor was certain that there was an open relationship between Finn and the Rachel woman. They didn't look like the average couple, beginning with the mismatched heights. His legs were cramped between the seats, and he had to awkwardly tilt them into her foot room so that they didn't snap in half. He had to reach a good six foot three, maybe four inches. A trim russet brown hair cut and a characteristic smile that came easily to him, the Doctor could imagine why someone would be attracted to him. Finn's striped brown sweater was too short in the sleeves, but it reached the leather belt of his denim jeans. He had a naïve regard in his tawny eyes, making him suspect that while the boy was probably plenty of kind and charming, he wasn't particularly bright. Despite his ambience of gentleness, his intimidating likely athletic stature actually made him appear imposing.

"I'm sitting here," the blonde boy called Sam stated quite frankly. The odd one out of the three, he had lemon juice-dyed California surfer hair and an exceptionally large mouth. He sprawled out across one of the back rows, watching something on his iPod and shoving Cool Ranch Doritos in his face. Along with Finn, he had a long torso and a pair of equally lengthy legs, though he seemed a few inches shorter than the brunette. His light green irises were glued to the screen, emphasizing his ignoring of Rachel. He was casually dressed in a red and white varsity jacket with an enormous cardinal colored "M" emblem on the pocket.

The Doctor shook his head and let out a disappointed sigh. Sam appeared to be a typical American jock, not only because of the jacket, but the smug look on his face and perfect muscle definition. While he'd automatically taken a liking to everyone else aboard, he wasn't quite sure about Sam and his unruly appearance. He'd have to work at keeping his displeasure for the kid at bay.

"Oh, he's ashamed of us. But he doesn't mind us paying, does he?" retorted Rachel, crossing her arms over her abdomen sourly. Sam forgot his supposed ear blasting music and jerked up. Finn's wide eyed expression let the Doctor know that apparently money was a touchy subject. As Sam opened his oversized mouth to jump down Rachel's throat, Finn interjected.

"Don't start, you two," he ordered, like a peacemaker between two warring armies. Attempting to distract the fuming pair, "Should I save the juice pack or have it now? Look, its peach and clementine!" he announced excitedly, showing the battlers by shoving it in their burgundy faces.

The hostess made her way to the front, sensible heels clacking down the aisle as she passed the Doctor. Talking as she walked, the three in the back calmed down for the moment and put their focus on her. The Doctor and Kurt listened intently, but Blaine, hearing the speech for the fifteenth time, and the blonde woman, simply not caring, openly ignored her.

"Ladies and gentlemen and variations thereupon, welcome on board the Crusader Fifty, if you could fasten your seatbelts, we'll be leaving any moment. Doors!" The entrances slammed shut, sounding alarms and clunking the heavy metal together as they did. "Shields down!" The metal curtains draped over the windows as she spoke, taking away any chance of leaving at that point. "I'm afraid the view is shielded until we reach the Waterfall Palace. As you know, the planet Midnight orbits an X-tonic star, which has fused the planet's surface into solid diamonds. Can't risk a little sunburn! And a reminder that Midnight has no air, so please don't touch the exterior door seals. The fire exit is at the rear, though, should we ever need to use it... You first." Kurt, Finn and the Doctor frowned, trying to figure out whether she was joking or not. "Now I'll hand you over to Driver Artie."

A hearty male voice rang out over the intercom. "Driver Artie at the wheel, hello!" it crackled. "There's been a diamond fall at the Winter Witch Canyon, so we'll be taking a slight detour, as you'll see on the map." Two plasma screen televisions that had been formerly flashing the Crusader Tour logo switched to a visual of the ship's path. The new direction that they'd be heading in began to glow. The Doctor swiped his glasses out of his suit pocket and slid them over the bridge of his nose to analyze the graphic.

Driver Artie continued speaking over the technology's beeping as the hostess pointed things out when he mentioned them, "The journey covers 500 kliks to the Multifaceted Coast, duration is estimated at four hours. Thank you for travelling with us, and as they used to say in the olden days, wagons roll!" Immediately after he spoke, the Crusader 50 began to rumble, indicating that the shuttle was on the move.

Not pausing after Driver Artie's sign off, the hostess chimed in. "For your entertainment, we have the Music Channel playing retrovids of Earth Classics." A miniature version of the plasma screen unfolded from the ceiling above every seat.

"Do It, Do It Again!" by Raffaella Carra began to boom sharply from the speakers. It wasn't exactly the Doctor's most preferred choice in music. _That's why you have earplugs, though._

"Also, we have the latest Artistic Installations from Ludovic Klein," Lava lamp-esque blobs began to rotate on the walls, sending a glare through the Doctor's glasses. He squinted, trying to keep the obnoxious light off of him._ Maybe you still have Princess Aurora's enchanted sleeping mask in your pocket,_ he hastily remembered. A moment of scrambling in his pockets, he withdrew his hands. _I knew I should have worn the blue suit._

He could hear her mouth open to start talking again, and he braced himself for what form of 'entertainment' would follow. "Plus, for the youngsters, a rare treat from the Animation Archives." The Doctor recognized the old American classic from the 1940's, Betty Boop. A lampoon of an old man began to jitterbug across the large white screen that had descended from above the pilot's cabin. Its bothersome laughter was awfully unpleasant. The Doctor hadn't enjoyed the cartoon when it had first come out, and he certainly wasn't about to watch it for the long trip ahead of him.

"Four hours of fun time! Enjoy!" the hostess concluded, flashing a last plastic smile as she headed back to her quarters.

The formerly peaceful cabin had been transformed into an overload of noise and color. Behind him, Kurt got Blaine's earplugs out of his bag, and Rachel tried to listen to Finn over all the unnecessary artificial commotion. Sam scowled, turning up his MP3 player and continuing to sullenly shove the calorie-infested chips in his mouth.

As the Doctor's eyes wandered across the madness, he caught another glance from the mysterious blonde across from him. She rolled her burnished eyes at the preposterous clamor surrounding them. The Doctor chuckled, silently agreeing with her. He leaned back, shoving his hands in his pocket again in an attempt to zone out of the annoying fuss. His fingers brushed across his sonic screwdriver in the fabric, and an idea struck his mind.

Sitting back up, he winked at the blonde, catching her off guard, and pressed the Selective Deactivation setting, programmed to Level Seven. A hardly audible _whirr_ omitted from the sonic, making the blonde's eyes grow wide in amazement. Suddenly snapping off, the lack of entertainment systems shocked the tourists out of their irritated daze.

Blaine was the first to react, "Well that's a mercy!" he guffawed, removing the headphones from his ears.

The hostess stopped in her tracks, whipping around to the head of the ship. She fumbled with her remote frantically, stuttering out words as she tried to turn it back on. "I d-do apologi-gise, l-ladies and-d gentl-lemen-n and vari-variation-ns thereup-pon. W-we seem to have, have, have had a f-f-failure of the Enter-rt-tainment Sys-system," she managed, rubbing her hand through her coarse black hair in a nervous wreck. The Doctor felt guilty for putting her in the state, but something had to be done. _Nothing you can do about it now._

On the other side of the aisle, he glanced back at the blonde. She'd quickly rummaged through her purse and grabbed a coil notebook and an indigo Sharpie. Scribbling on an empty page, she wrote something in large letters horizontally. Once she finished, she flashed it at the Doctor.

"Quinn", it said simply in wide cursive.

The Doctor blushed, smiling to himself. Fumbling in his own pocket, he reached for his psychic paper. Opening it like a wallet, the words wrote themselves. "The Doctor", he imagined it saying, and by her sweet tempered smile, he knew she'd seen it.

Interrupting the Doctor and Quinn's moment, Rachel piped up from the back. "But what do we do?" she complained, clearly horrified at the thought of boredom.

Finn seemed to be on the same page, "We've got four hours of this!"

Watching Quinn looking expectantly at him, and the hostess scrambling before him, the Doctor popped his head up over the seat, speaking to all the passengers. "Tell you what!" he grinned, raising his eyebrows mischievously. "We'll have to talk to each other instead! How about that, then? Eh?"

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><p>Review if you enjoyed the introduction to my presentation of "Midnight", please. Reviews are like cookies. I like them.<p> 


	2. The Lost Moon of Poosh

To all of you who reviewed; Thanks! I try to reply to most reviews, the longer the review, the longer my reply. I'm still quite new to this thing, but I'm working my tail off to get each chapter up here. I thought I'd have gotten "The Diamond Planet; Chapter Two" up here much sooner, but I'm a sophomore in high school, and we had insane assignments the past two weeks. Sorry!

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><p>They'd been heading for ninety-eight clicks through the luster of Midnight, although the passengers hadn't yet seen the splendor outside. It seemed to the hostess that they'd almost forgotten, really, that they were not chatting at a cozy neighborhood block party, but were, in fact, plundering through x-tonic sunlight and colorless zircon. Her thin lips turned up a little at the corners in a slight smile at the sight of them. She'd been working on this tour for almost two years, and she'd never before seen so many strangers so enticed with each other, listening to what their companion had to say, and sharing in the conversation together. It was a bit odd, but charming, to see the passengers actually interacting with one another for once. Each passenger had their own quirks, but they resembled a group of misfits that had begun to enjoy each others' company.<p>

The Doctor, Kurt, Blaine, Finn and Rachel had moved to new seats in the center of the bus. They looked as if they were joining in a campfire circle, but Kurt had gently told the Doctor that an actual campfire might not please the officials back at Crusader Tours, much to the Time Lord's disappointment. Sam, Quinn and the hostess were the only ones who weren't engaged in conversation. Allowing his eyelids to droop as he leaned against the headrest, Sam had his headphones in his ears, although the Doctor knew for a fact that they weren't on. When all of the entertainment systems had been shut off earlier, that had included _all entertainment systems. _The Doctor simply rolled his eyes, and let Sam continue sulking in the back of the shuttle.

Quinn hadn't moved much, and she still sat quietly in the front of the shuttle. Her eyes were locked on the ink pages of her novel, but occasionally, the Doctor would sneak a look back towards her. Their eyes would meet, and she'd casually return to her book. Only Kurt seemed to notice the Doctor's blushing every time he'd turn around. Meanwhile, it was only the Doctor himself who acknowledged Kurt's timid smiles and eyelash bats whenever Blaine would brush his fingers over Kurt's hand by chance.

Shy flirting aside, all attention was on Finn and Rachel. Kurt and Blaine sat on the edges of their seats across the aisle, while the Doctor was propped up backwards on his chair. His gangly legs dangled off the cushion, and his arms rested on the top, crossed in front of him as he leaned into the couple before him.

"So Rachel said, 'I'm going to see Barbra!'" Finn laughed, waving his hands in front of him in a meaningless type of sign language.

"Oh, I was all ready. Pen and Hello Dolly poster and everything! My home-made Funny Girl t-shirt on!" cackled Rachel, face starting to get red with embarrassment for what was coming.

Finn's grin was enormous as he looked over at Rachel. He placed his massive hand on her small knee, rubbing it as he spoke. "She had this children's size t-shirt, you should've seen her-"

Rachel glanced at Finn, smiling hesitantly at his features. Her expression softened a bit when he squeezed her thigh slightly. Carrying on with her story, "So I went marching up to the security guard, and he was a native Eskimo, you know, the big wooly hair?"

Finn pointed with his other hand to his mess of russet brown hair, as if he were emphasizing its fluff. "Great big wooly hair!"

"So I said," giggled Rachel, "'Where's Barbra?' And he said-"

Finn and Rachel both hooted in sync, "'Barbra...is an impersonator!'"

Uproar of laughter from the Doctor, Blaine, and Kurt rang throughout the cabin. From the back, the hostess even cracked a chuckle. The Doctor caught a glance at Sam, and saw the fake blonde muster a grudging smile. _Oh, look who's interested in us now_, he mused, beguiled.

Tears had started to run down Rachel cheeks, blue mascara making paths. "It wasn't really Barbra!"

"It was an actress!" exclaimed Finn, slapping his hand to his knee, as if he were mocking his own stupidity.

Rachel shook her head, hardly able to speak from fretting so much. "She wasn't real!" she cried out, wiping her wrist underneath her eye as she split her sides.

"And you were wearing the t-shirt!" the Doctor chortled.

Rachel mimed sucking in her stomach, like she was constrained in a shirt six sizes too small. "I was like this!" she imitated, eyes bulging out of her head as her neck strained, looking back and forth with an imaginary pen in her hand.

The entire shuttle erupted in howls. Finn and Rachel gazed at each other giddily as she nuzzled into his shoulder, and he wrapped his long arm around her torso.

* * *

><p>They'd traveled one hundred and fifty clicks so far, and the ordering of refreshments had started. The Doctor and Kurt stood hip to hip at the back of the cabin, both pouring themselves Styrofoam cups of coffee. Blaine stood towards the very back, shoving useless "fun facts" down Sam's throat. Kurt smiled to himself as his traveling companion eagerly hunted down anyone who could possibly show any interest in his project. While Blaine was only a year above Kurt, he considered him his mentor in his studies.<p>

They'd met through their university's musical arts theatre. It'd be a rough day for Kurt, cramming in studying for his Planetesimal finals. His overworked brain couldn't stand to look at one more diagram or graph of Jupiter or Perrot. Celestial bodies and astronomers had lost their distinction, somewhere in between the horrific week of mid-terms, and now.

He'd been crouching over his laptop, pounding his fingers on the keyboard obnoxiously. _Spacewatch, Anderson Mesa, Trans-Neptunian objects, Apohele asteroids, retrograde rotation, Kuiper belt, accretion-powered pulsars, sub-brown dwarfs, New __Worlds Mission, __Helios__, deuterium, International Astronomical Union, low-density gas giants, __the __Milky Way Galaxy__, gravitational microlensing. _Word after word, they all ran before Kurt's eyes as he stared at the screen. _What even _are _these?, _he thought to himself. Slamming his elbows down on the desk, he threw his face into the sweaty palms of his hand. _Finals are in _three days_, Kurt. Three days. Sitting here, stressing over extrasolar planets and Kepler 10b, isn't helping. _Sneaking a glance at the counter in front of him through his spindly fingers, he saw dozens of half-drunk coffee mugs and a weeks' worth of pencil stubs and empty takeout boxes. He groaned loudly, dropping his elbows and slumping his head on the keyboard, He had to get out of here, and relax. Otherwise, he'd never be able to concentrate.

The digital clock on the edge of his screen glowed "23:13". It was quite dark outside, he could tell by checking behind the curtains. The building across from his dorm illuminated softly through its windows, and a thought stuck Kurt's mind. Sprinting out of his desk chair to grab a jacket, he flew out his door to the theatre next door.

Kurt snuck over after-hours, hoping to steal an opportunity to sing on the auditorium stage while no one else was around. The theatre had been dimly lit with alarm lights, and on stage, it was been impossible to see anything past the first five rows.

The front door hadn't been locked, carelessly left open to the university's public. A long screech broke the silence in the dingy lobby as he cautiously stepped on foot onto the dusty velvet carpet. He breathed slowly, white particles in the air floating in his eyes. The theatre itself smelled dingy, although he was sure it was used daily by the arts department. The air felt damp, almost moldy. He slid in his other foot, and shut the door gently behind him. One foot after the other, he made his way across the velvet carpet to the entrance of the domain.

He wandered past row after row of seats, making his way onto the stage. A magnificent concert grand piano sat lonely at the back, its lid propped up already. Aged sheets of music drooped on the music rack gloomily. He plunked a few notes on the ivory piano keys, humming to himself. A chair about twenty rows back made a _creak_, as if someone had slowly sat out of it, catching him off guard for a second. He shook his head, brushing it off as the metal seat cooling in the night air, and began to sing a few notes.

No one was listening to him, so he didn't worry about sounding talented and sophisticated. Tapping the notes with his right hand, "Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly," he sang out, two octaves higher than the original. In his mind, he imagined an enormous string orchestra accompanying him, cellos pouring out their hearts in unison, violins sliding their bows across their strings beautifully. He could almost hear the plucks of the bass, the vibration of the clarinet, the longing of the flute. Admittedly, the farther he got into the song, the less concentrated he was in the melody, and the more he jumped across the stage in elaborate leaps and twirls. "Just a little change, small, to say the least. Both a little scared; neither one prepared. Beauty and the Beast."

"Certain as the sun rising in the East. Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme. Beauty and the Beast," he finished, note hanging in the air resonantly. He didn't really quite know what he was doing, majoring in Planetesimal. His heart laid right here, singing and dancing to his own music. But he'd been studying the subject for ages, and it was only his second year at the college. What if he switched to the arts and it didn't work out? What if he made an enormous mistake, thinking he could? And it wasn't like he didn't love the workings of the universe as well. What if-

A slow clap carried from the back of the theatre. Kurt's eyes flew open, startled half to death, his body locking so that he couldn't move. "Bravo! Bravo!" rang a smooth tenor voice.

Kurt didn't move, like an idiot. He felt like a four year old, playing chameleon on a sofa. _If I don't move, he can't see me_. Clearly, the way that the tenor's footsteps sounded, carrying through the theatre, he definitely could.

A pair of hazel eyes he'd later learn to be fond of rested on him. "Nice choice, "Tale as Old as Time", Beauty and the Beast. Don't hear that very much anymore, really. But that's unimportant. You shouldn't be here, kiddo."

Kurt gulped loudly, cheekbones flushing in candy apple red. "I know, sir, I'll be on my way," he rushed frantically, stumbling his way onto his feet and brushing the dirt from his tan slacks. "My apologies, this won't happen again! Sorry!" Flustered, he wrapped himself in his cropped trench coat and started towards the doors.

A hand reached for his forearm, and Kurt turned around. "Hold up," the tenor chuckled. "I'm Blaine, Blaine Anderson. Sophomore, over in Kemper Hall. I'm not going to rat you out to the dean, don't worry," he chuckled, smirking slightly. "I'm not supposed to be here either, you know. Your secret's safe with me."

For the first time, Kurt paused a moment to do an once-over of his intruder. This Blaine had a sarcastic looking grin, but the gleam in his eyes was good-humored. Kurt found himself slightly drawn to it, from the over-gelled hair to the moist, but vaguely chapped, pair of lips above the dimple on his chin. For the second time that evening, Kurt gulped and blushed in rhythm, and smiled awkwardly at him. "Well, thanks," he managed, pushing a lock of silky caramel hair behind his pink pointed ear.

"Aren't you in my Fusor Astronomy class?" Blaine asked suddenly, cocking his head to the left and squinting his eyes vaguely, as if he were trying to pinpoint where he recognized the shy boy before him.

"I must be," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Not sure, I spend most of my time staring at the board and working on my finals paper."

"Oh? What's it on?" he questioned, seemingly honestly interested.

"Poosh's lost moon," Kurt admitted, smiling feebly. "You know, the one that went missing about a decade ago, during the-"

"Believe me; I'm quite informed on the topic. I'm actually working on a research paper about it," glowed Blaine. "It's quite rare to find someone else who shares the same interest in the missing. I'm impressed that I happened to find someone who even remembers what it is."

Kurt could feel his cheeks burning for the thousandth time that evening. _Oh, God, Kurt! Quit it! Just because he happens to share your same passion, and is devilishly handsome, and appears to be brilliant, and sneaks into the theatre late at night, and has stunning hazel eyes, and-_He stopped himself before he carried on too far. "Oh, yes. Most definitely," he stammered.

"Shall we walk and talk? I'd love to hear your opinion on the subject," Blaine offered, pointing his hand towards the entrance. Kurt swallowed, and nodded his head violently. "Wonderful. Now, on the topic of the pretenses in which the moon was taken…"

Kurt shook his head, forcing himself to stop reminiscing and continue his conversation with the Doctor. He'd asked why he'd been travelling with Blaine, and was looking hesitantly at Kurt. The sophomore wondered how long he'd been in his flashback for, and hoped it hadn't been too embarrassingly long.

"I'm just a second-year student," Kurt explained, wrapping his spider-like fingers around the cheap coffee cup, "but I wrote a paper on the Lost Moon of Poosh. Blaine read it, and he liked it, so he took me on as a researcher. Just for the holidays. Well, I say researcher," he chuckled, glancing over again at his travelling companion, who was currently looking over at him expectantly. He grabbed the other mug of espresso, "most of the time he's got me fetching and carrying. But it's all good experience!" _And I get to spend five weeks with the most incredible, intelligent, witty, gorgeous man who's ever walked into my life, who happens to forget my existence unless he needs an opinion on heliocentric orbit or someone to reach the top shelf in the hotel room, _he mused to himself.

"And did they ever find it?" the Doctor asked, pouring an absurd amount of cream into the coffee and stirring it with his pointer finger.

Kurt looked taken aback for a second, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Find what?"

The Doctor lifted his finger out of the coffee and brought it to his mouth. He sucked off the steaming liquid, and wiped it on the pocket of his suit. "The Lost Moon of Poosh!" he said, as if the question was obvious.

Kurt laughed, feeling daft at his own perplexity. "Oh, no! Not yet!"

"Well, maybe that'll be your great discovery, one day," the Doctor quipped, raising his coffee in the air in a toast. "Here's to Poosh!"

Kurt flashed his perfect white teeth. He could see himself having a good time with this man on this trip. Certainly, if Blaine wasn't going to bother with confessing deep passionate feelings for him or anything today, Kurt could entertain himself with someone else. "Poosh!" he beamed as he clinked with the flimsy cup.

* * *

><p>OH HAI. By the way, I'm changing my pen name pretty soon. Just keep that in mind, thanks! Review, pretty please winkyface.<p> 


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